


Drops of Midnight

by PridetotheFall



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Bittersweet, Drama, F/M, Romance, Solavellan, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-22
Updated: 2015-08-22
Packaged: 2018-04-16 13:57:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4627860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PridetotheFall/pseuds/PridetotheFall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Senna awakens in the middle of a storm to find her lover gone. </p>
<p>Prompt request on Tumblr</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drops of Midnight

**Author's Note:**

> Like the package says, this is a prompt from Tumblr I decided to share on here. I do have stories on tumblr I haven't posted on AO3 (under the same url) if you like this one and want to see more. Cheers!
> 
> Written to Sakura Drops by Utada Hikaru

She didn't wake until she was cold enough to shiver. For a time Senna was used to sleeping alone, used to the midnight chill of the south. Ever since she became involved with Solas she had a warm body to keep her from freezing in the night when the fire burned out and the stone walls of Skyhold absorbed all the winter winds. So when that warmth was gone and the chill seeped under her sheets, Senna was forced awake. It was nowhere close to morning. The moon was out from what she could see through sheets of rain. Thunder rumbled somewhere beyond Skyhold. 

She touched the empty place where Solas should be. Heat lingered but was quickly fading. He'd been gone for some time. 

Senna almost rolled over to return to sleep. It was odd of him to leave in the middle of the night but he would have his own reasons and she wasn't there to police his comings and goings. But when she saw his worn pack missing when it usually rested at the foot of the sofa, she gave the room a second glance. His staff was gone. In fact, no shred of his presence remained. It was as if he'd never been there in the first place.

Senna scrambled out of bed and threw on a tunic, ignoring how the icy stone bit into the soles of her feet. She couldn't be bothered to put on her foot bindings though she pulled on a pair of pants as she hopped to the stairs. She ran down to the door, leaving her staff leaning against the banister – the place both she and Solas would usually rest them. 

The hairs on her arms were standing by the time she reached the main hall. In the darkness she could see a beam of moonlight from the great entrance door. One door was open just enough for a body to slip through. The rain fell fast and straight beyond the awning. As Senna approached, she saw a figure in a large hat in the shadow of the door, wringing his hands together. 

“Cole?” 

The spirit lifted his head. “I told him it would not be better.”

“What do you mean? Have you seen Solas?” she asked. 

He nodded. “Yes. He didn't want you to wake or he wouldn't have been able to go.”

“Go where?” Her breath stilled. 

“Too bright from before, a memory of a burn in the back of a heart breaking to bleed. I would not be what another was to me. It would be better for a coward to flee than a wolf to feed.”

Senna didn't take the time to parse Cole's convoluted words. She got what she needed: Solas had run. Senna pushed through the door and into the rain. She didn't need to think about whether she should chase him, whether it would be right or not. Halfway to the gate she felt the ice seep through her skin as the rain that was cold enough to be snow drenched her clothes. It wasn't enough to make her stop. 

She jogged to the gate to find it closed, two guards on duty in the gatehouse. A warm fire lit the room and cast light on their cards.

“Open the gate,” she barked. They both shot up, hands at their swords, before one recognized her.

“I-Inquisitor!” 

But she was a sight: a soggy wraith of an elf in a loose tunic and no shoes. The only thing that made her recognizable was her violet vallaslin. “You heard me. Now!”

“Ser!” He saluted and they worked the gears to crank the gate up. 

“Did a man come through? Within the hour?” she asked. 

“No one, ser. At least, not that I can recall. I don't think . . .” he seemed a little confused at the question. Senna knew it was pointless, knew Solas had passed through. If he had cast a spell or called on a spirit to confuse their memories, there was nothing they would be able to tell her. 

She slid through the gate when it was open enough to let her pass, then sprinted across the bridge and onto the dirt path beyond. Solas must not have expected anyone to follow, for he stayed on the path, his tracks freshly pressed in the soft mud. 

Senna did not slow her run for a second. Each breath puffed a hot mist into the chill air. Her foot slipped into a deep, freezing puddle. She could catch him. He was not too far gone. 

Each step pounded through her skin. She splashed through another puddle. The run began to rattle her bones. Breaths were coming faster now, the mist of air reduced to gasps filled with water drops and coldness. She felt like she ran all night. 

Finally, she saw a shadow on the path ahead. Between the sheets of rain and the shadows of midnight it was impossible to see who it was. Senna closed in, spotted the staff in his hand, and slowed. 

“Solas,” she panted. He stopped. The items hanging from his pack rattled as he turned. She saw a grim smile settle on his lips under the hood he had pulled up. 

“I thought I would have more time. That was foolish of me,” he said, voice low against the clatter of rain. 

“Why?” was all she had breath to ask. 

He lifted his head a bit and she could finally see his blue eyes, dark in the moonlight. “I have already stated it would be kinder to let you be. It has always been true. This is the only way I see to save you the grief. Yet,” here he smiled again, softer this time. “The tenacity I so love may be my downfall.”

“Solas, I don't-” But she didn't know what to say. Another breath passed. She shuddered. Despite her run, the cold had reached her bones. “You could have just told me. I know you had reservations but I thought we were through that. I don't want you to feel so pressured that leaving Skyhold is your only option.”

“If I told you, you would have protested, as you are. It was not you that drove me from Skyhold but what I know is to come. I chose to be a coward, in this instance,” he explained. 

“You don't know what is to come,” Senna challenged. 

“Would you prefer I leave you or betray you?” he returned, his words sounding tired with cynicism. Senna stopped. And breathed. 

Solas straightened his back when she didn't answer. “Inquisitor, I am of no further use to your organization. I will take my leave.”

“No,” she whispered. His grip on his staff turned his fingers white. He did not move. One cold breath, then two, and he turned away. 

Senna snapped forward, ran around and in front of him to block his path. 

“Tell me you don't love me,” she demanded. 

“I-” His brow curled up and in, as if the question was physically distressing. “I cannot.”

“Then I can't let you walk away like this. And if you do end up betraying me, fine. As long as you don't try to kill me or any of our friends. Because I will not believe for a second you would do it because you wanted to. Ar lath ma, Solas. How many times must I say it before you believe me? That won't change because of circumstance.” She searched his eyes, making sure he was listening. 

He looked away. “And when I do leave?”

“I will miss you dearly.” She reached for him. “But don't leave now. Not like this.”

His eyes closed. “It was hard enough. This is better.”

“I won't let you do this,” she said fiercely. “You keep saying you're helping me but all you're doing is hurting yourself. I can handle a little heartbreak but I won't sit by while the man I love tries to shoot down his own happiness because he's afraid of it.”

“You don't know what you ask of me.” Solas shook his head. 

“Yes. I do. I'm asking you not to take responsibility for my feelings. That is my affair.”

“Senna,” he faltered. She took a tentative step forward and looked up at him. He didn't back away. 

“I don't want to force you into anything,” she murmured. “Let me be with you while I can, as long as it makes you happy.”

“I don't deserve that from you.”

“Hmm.” She tilted her head as he often did and smiled. “Then you'd best start working to earn it.”

“Oh?” He leaned in to her slightly. “What would you have me do to earn your desire for my happiness?”

“A kiss should suffice for now,” Senna teased. She pressed her hands to his chest and balanced on her toes to reach him. 

His expression turned somber and she feared she lost him. But both hands cupped her face, fingers sliding through wet locks of red hair. He leant to press a soft kiss to lips tinted blue with cold water. She heard thunder rumble, closer this time. Solas looked to her eyes. 

“I love you,” she said again. She placed her hands over his. 

“Ar lath ma vhenan,” he returned. His forehead rested against hers. Their breaths twirled together, visible in the sharp, cold air. 

“Not yet,” he finally agreed. Senna nodded. She would try not to think of that day till it came. For now, this was enough.


End file.
